


FE3H Twitter Assortment

by fancywaffles



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Gen, Inspired by Twitter, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancywaffles/pseuds/fancywaffles
Summary: A collection of FE3H snippits I've done on twitter, ratings vary. This is mostly for archiving/readability purposes. Chapters may be updated within the chapter rather than putting a new chapter up, depending on category. Chapters are split into different ships & platonic.Ratings range from G to E. I'll have any content warnings & if it's NSFW above the snippet.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	1. Platonic/Non-Ship

**Author's Note:**

> These are non Sylvix snippits, the Sylvix ones are [elsewhere](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034651/chapters/66000586).

**Leonie - Post-Canon**

**CW: Alcohol**

_Spotify2020 Meme; Gin Wigmore - Black Sheep_

Leonie thought back to how she got here and came up black. She probably shouldn’t have challenged that Srengi to a drinking contest, but she was pretty sure she’d won. Not that she’d been awake enough to pick up her winnings.

Either way, it left her in the predicament of being in her small clothes, a spear for a weapon, and six burly guys in front of her. Wondering _how_ she came here, probably didn’t matter as much as getting out of there.

The spear was heavier than the lance she usually used, but she also wasn’t astride a horse. One of the guys was smirking at her.

Amateur.

Leonie didn’t run forward. She walked slowly and let them take her one at a time, underestimate her, and then knocked each of them on their asses with the heft of the spear. One to the nose. One to the chest.

Twice to one of them in the nuts that reminded her of the fucker who killed her horse. And the rest were easy ankle grabs.

Sure, she was bleeding afterwards, but she’d already had a headache from a hangover anyway.

“What’s Sreng for who’s buying me a drink?” Leonie asked. She only got a groan as her answer. She waved a hand and walked in a random direction. She’d figure it out.

* * *

**Sylvain - Crimson Flower Route**

_Spotify2020 Meme; Forever CHVRCHES_

Sylvain was great at imploding relationships. He’d refined it to an art form. Some relationships were sacred, sacrosanct. Some relationships he actively tried not to implode.

And of course some relationships picked an entirely different side of the war to be on, betraying their homeland and every single person they were supposed to be loyal to.

Maybe now—covered in rain, mud, and the ever looming specter of death—Sylvain rethought his last words to them. It had been a classroom switch, something pointless and easy to overcome.

_“Easiest way to flee Dimitri I guess.”_

_“More marriage candidates in the Black Eagles, huh? You after ol’ Ferdinand or is Hubert more your type now?”_

Their responses had been the same. Scrunched face, scowl, anger constrained to hide the hurt. So Sylvain dug the knife in, even deeper. He wanted it to hurt as badly as being abandoned hurt him. He wanted it to hurt enough that he wouldn’t care that they’d left… it’d been his plan all along after all.

So he’d attempted to convince himself.

_“Hey no worries, I’m sure His Highness won’t miss you anyway. It’s not like you were the Fraldarius he was closest to.”_

_“Makes sense, you’d have to actually stand up to your father if you stayed.”_

Now, on the Talitean Plains, standing upright with his Lance of Ruin, Sylvain thought it was too late for regrets and maybe too late for anything.

* * *

**Dimitri & Marianne - Canon**

“Marianne,” Dimitri asked carefully. “Ah, how exactly did the horseshoe get onto the roof?”

Marianne looked miserable. “I… I don’t know. I was trying to put the stables together and it slipped out of my hand.”

“And went to the roof?” Dimitri attempted and failed to hold back a laugh. That only made Marianne appear  _ more _ miserable. Dimitri cleared his throat. “My apologies, I am not laughing at you… I… it is only that it reminded me of some of my more unfortunate accidents.”

“With horseshoes?” Marianne asked, shyly.

“No as of yet, no,” Dimitri said. “You should ask Mercedes how my sewing lessons are progressing if you’d like to hear a true tale of clumsy misfortune.”

Marianne did not look convinced, but she appeared slightly less miserable. “Why are you learning to sew?”

“Mainly to refrain from…. horseshoe incidents,” he said with a smile. “Now, I think I can help with the retrieval.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go to the--”

“I insist,” Dimitri said. “We wouldn’t want Dorte going barefoot.”

That, at least, got a smile.

  
  



	2. Dimilix

**Off the Record Series**

_High School/Secondary School_

Dimitri read past the section on mitosis and meiosis, adjusting the book slightly to get a better view at the notes Ingrid had leant him. He didn’t get more than a few sentences in when he felt Felix hand resting on his pectoral. Dimitri smiled, took Felix’s hand into his own and kissed it, before going back to reading.

There was an irritated huff, followed by a huff of breath uncomfortably in Dimitri’s ear. “What are you doing?” Dimitri asked, jerking his head away.

“Your parents are out of town and you want to actually _study_?” Felix asked. His face was pink from the tips of his ears to the bridge of his nose.

Dimitri tried very hard not to laugh. “Were you trying to blow in my ear?”

“I… I don’t know,” Felix snapped, embarrassed and turned his head away.

Dimitri set aside his textbook and Ingrid’s notes. He stood up on his knees long enough for Felix to glance back at him again, before Dimitri shoved him onto the carpet covering Felix’s body with his own. “I thought we’d study _first_ ,” Dimitri said.

Felix was still a pleasant shade of pink and squirmed beneath him, which was much better enticement than whatever else he’d been trying. He honestly could’ve just said something.

* * *

**Off the Record Series**

_Directly following Not to Sound like a Broken Record_

It was strange kissing someone he’d kissed a million times before, but not when they were almost half a head taller and definitely broader. Felix hadn’t had to crane his neck this much when they were teenagers messing around. Not that he was complaining. In the slightest.

He was pretty sure Dimitri’s _hands_ were bigger too. Immediately Felix started thinking about what else was bigger and he went from feeling fine about being pressed up against his hotel door, kissed senseless—to desperately trying to find his key. It was around the same time that Dimitri apparently was also having issues with the neck craning, because those larger hands picked Felix _up_ and slammed him back against the door.

The impact his back made with the wood, knocked some of the air out of his lungs and made a dull thud that someone probably heard. Felix was extremely certain he had never wanted to find a keycard more and also did not want to move.

Dimitri pulled back a little, pupil so dilated his blue eye looked almost black. He ran his tongue over lips Felix had been biting a moment earlier. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m not complaining,” Felix blurted out and then ignored the fact that even after practically dry-humping in a hotel hallway _this_ was what was making his face heat up. “I just—I can’t get the key like this.”

“Ah,” Dimitri said and unfortunately let him down.

“You’ve been working out,” Felix mumbled, as he pulled out the keycard and turned towards the door.

The response was barely a hum and then there were lips on Felix’s neck and hands on his hips—and it was very hard to get the key in the actual fucking lock this way. The door chimed with a rejection as it turned red. “Dimitri,” he chided—or at least attempted to, in what actually sounded like a breathy moan.

“Key,” Felix said, and then even more articulately, “door.”Even with Dimitri’s irritated grumble and pressing his forehead to Felix’s shoulder (doing nothing to move his damnable big hands) it took at least four tries before Felix finally got the fucking thing to open.

The second the door swung open, Felix felt the hands on his hips tighten, turn him around like it was nothing and then hoist him up again. He grabbed onto Dimitri’s shoulders (even though it didn’t seem like he needed to) for leverage and watched as the door slammed shut behind them. Years of pent up feelings and frustration coming out were multiplied by the fact that Felix was discovering he actually _enjoyed_ being hauled around like cheap equipment and then thrown onto the bed.

He was pretty sure he’d never been this hard in his life as Dimitri pressed him into the bed. Their hands were intertwined, but Felix wasn’t sure he could move his if he wanted to, with the way Dimitri was holding them down. The weight on top of him was centering and different and the height difference really didn’t fucking matter when they weren’t vertical.

* * *

**Post-Canon**

Felix dragged the box over and slammed it down on the floor before climbing on top of it. “One fucking word and I’ll tear your hair out of your skull.” 

“I could sit,” Dimitri suggested, turning around so his hair was at the appropriate angle for Felix.

“You fidget when you sit,” Felix said. He was brushing Dimitri’s hair, with a slight aggression.

“Does your affection always have to be so violent?” Dimitri asked as Felix dragged through a tangle.

“Do you want me to do this or not?” Felix asked. At Dimitri’s defeated sigh, he continued, working his way through Dimitri’s hair until it was brushed through. Then his fingers graced the sides of Dimitri’s skull and the slightly aggressive tugging when he picked up strands faded soon after.

Once Felix was done affixing Dimitri’s hair into a braided style that would actually _last_ through the day, Dimitri turned around and noticed that Felix standing on the box was actually slightly taller than him. It was a strange feeling.

“Well? How does it look?” Dimitri asked, because Felix’s blunt opinion was always more efficient than a mirror.

“You look good,” Felix said, staring at Dimitri’s hairline rather than his face. “You always look good, it’s annoying.”

Dimitri had to step up to kiss him, and enjoyed Felix’s surprised protest, until he melted into it, hands pressing on his shoulders. “I didn’t notice any neck crick at this angle,” Dimitri said. It was one of Felix’s many protests about kissing him.

“Your neck is thicker than mine,” Felix said, sourly for someone who looked so freshly kissed. “So’s your head. Don’t mess up your hair,” he added and then hopped off the box, dragging it away before Dimitri could get any other ideas.

  
  



	3. Dimileth

**Canon; Twitter Prompt: Titty Tuesday**

_NSFW_

Dimitri woke up groggy, disoriented, and annoyed that the sun had set and Brigid was still a perpetual _furnace_. It wasn’t an effective diplomatic approach to almost pass out in front of the current rulers of country that he was attempting to negotiate trade with.

The tent flap opened and Byleth appeared. “Feeling any better?” she asked, settling down next to him and setting down a small box.

“No,” Dimitri said, and then, less immaturely, “Yes, a little. Were you all right today?”

“Oh of course,” Byleth said, in what was clearly sarcasm. “You know political negotiations are my forte.” Still sarcasm. “And Petra was really thrilled to see the person who killed several of her closest friends.”

“I am truly sorry,” Dimitri said. He couldn’t say he felt _worse_ than being out in the direct blaring sun of Brigid, but it was close.

Byleth shook her head. “It’s fine. Actually, I’m kind of impressed, inviting you in the middle of summer was an impressive power move. Should have tried to get Petra to join the Lions.” She looked at Dimitri after that and smiled. “Anyway, you said you were still feeling it?”

Dimitri nodded. Byleth threw one leg over his waist and straddled him. Generally speaking this would be more than welcome but, “Beloved, I cannot even think of standing at the moment let alone—”

Byleth put her hand on his mouth. “Trust me. And don’t make that face.”

She picked up the small box she’d brought in and opened it, a wave of refreshing chill briefly enough to tease his heart wafted from it. “Ice?”

“Mhmm, Brigid has some interesting food preservation techniques that if you don’t pass out tomorrow maybe you can see.” She smiled at him and picked up one of the cubed shaped ice pieces and pressed it against his flushed collarbone. It felt exquisite. He was going to throw himself face first into the snow at his first opportunity.

“You are so red,” she said, a hidden laugh in her voice.

“You’re enjoying my suffering,” Dimitri said.

Byleth’s responding grin was shameless, but she trailed the ice down his collarbone to the top of his pectorals and then in a swooping line that stalled any objections he had. “Maybe you’ll remember this next time you pretend you’re not making fun of me for being cold in the hell of Faerghus winters.”

“I would never mock you,” Dimitri objected, but the last word turned into an inappropriate noise for merely ice traversing the length of his chest. The ice was melting rather quickly against his skin and then the cool water dripped a path over his chest and down his torso. It had no right to feel _this_ good.

“Mhmm,” Byleth said again and picked up another ice piece. She drew this one up from the bottom of his ribcage towards the center of his chest and then across his left nipple, making him almost jolt up hard enough to dislodge her from his lap.

He had never been particularly sensitive there but something about the ice felt electrifying. Byleth brought the ice around the areola and across the nipple again drawing out a loud moan of relief. She picked another piece of ice and brought it to his right, flicking it briefly against the hard nub there. Then she traversed the edges of his closest and most prominent scar, so that the melting water pooled there slightly before dripping wonderfully cool water onto his chest.

The left side of his chest was numb with cold by the time the ice melted and the cool water made its way down his front. Byleth leaned in and her tongue picked up the trail of water from the bottom of his pectoral up through the nipple and brushed her warm tongue against it. It did not feel unpleasant even with the warmth.

He really hoped no one could hear the noises he was making as Byleth continued to switch between an icy trail and her warm tongue (and occasionally her teeth) on the expanse of his chest. The muscles tensed and relaxed beneath her ministrations and Dimitri felt exceptionally less overheated by the time the ice ran out.

“Better?” Byleth asked, with that shameless grin. Her cool fingertips tapped against the underside of his nipple with one hand as the other massaged the muscle of his pectoral on the other side.

“Yes, but I now have the urge to warm up again.”He decided that was enough warning before flipping her beneath him, chilled fingers still gripping his chest.

* * *

** Canon - Twitter Prompt: Dirty Talk **

“Are you sure?" Byleth asked. He was doing his best to focus on her face, but the negligee she’d chosen to wear was already straining against the formidable bust she carried.

“It’s not as if you don’t have the vocabulary,” Dimitri pointed out. Sylvain was still slightly jumpy around Byleth and it had been literal years since the incident.

There was a small crease in Byleth’s forehead, although her lips weren’t pointed down. “But I don’t want you to—”

The next words out of Byleth’s mouth were so filthy that Dimitri’s mind had trouble keeping them retained. He now completely understood why Sylvain was that jumpy.

“Things you _want_ ,” Dimitri clarified, after a very long moment and clearing his throat.

* * *

**Modern AU (2 Fast 2 FE3H)**

_Spotify2020 Meme: Queen - Don't Stop Me Now_

Byleth hit the ignition. She probably shouldn’t have hit it, quite so hard, but there was really nothing to stop her at the moment so her foot slipped. She felt the car peel back behind her as if it was on a separate course of travel from where her body trapped in the space of the driver’s seat was stuck.

Dimitri was doing an excellent job of looking as if he was completely comfortable with this level of radical disinterest in safety. His fingers were digging into the car door hard enough that Byleth was sure he was going to bend the metal, but she stayed focus on driving ahead.

“We’re going to win,” she pointed out.

“Yes, seems like it,” Dimitri said, calmly for how tight his finger were. His eyes were also closed.

Byleth tried not to laugh, but a giggle crawled up her throat at the increase of speed and the absolute madness and freedom of the speed whipping past them. There was nothing but air, tiers, and road. Nothing was stopping them, except her foot on the accelerator. She could brake if she wanted to, but she didn’t want to, she wanted to drive.

They broke past the finish line. It was made of old flimsy ribbon used to decorate some six year old’s birthday party at one of those sad pizza restaurants with the animal mascot that would haunt nightmares. Byleth took her foot off the accelerator, but let the car keep going for as long as it felt like continuing at the speed. It took them across the stretch of coast before the mountain broke between them and into a little sanded area, where she finally put the brake on.

“You realize the finish line was—” Dimitri started to say, but wisely stopped talking as Byleth unhooked her seatbelt and then climbed over the seats to straddle his lap. She wrapped her fingers around his neck, trilling in the exhilaration of her pulse racing, and something exciting finally happening and then did what she’d been wanting to do for months—kissed him. Dimitri’s hands went to her hips, tentative at first, but then hard enough to bruise, pulling her down and reaching one up to wrench her head forward, not that there was more forward to go.

She kissed him like she was still driving, her foot off the accelerator, seeing how far it could go.

* * *

**Canon/Azure Dawn Continuity**

Dimitri had rarely seen Byleth unsteady on her feet, but he also had not seen her balancing on sharp skates on top of the ice. He enjoyed the furious grip she kept on his hand as she attempted to figure it out.

“Did the ponds never ice over when you were younger?” Dimitri asked, smoothly skating backwards as Byleth attempted that direction.

“Yes, but slapping metal sticks to my feet and running across them never occurred to me,” Byleth said. Her voice was slightly muffled through the layer of fur covering her collar, pulled up high on her neck. He could barely see anything except the red of her nose and cheeks, given how far down she’d pulled her hood.

“I appreciate your sacrifice on my behalf,” Dimitri said, dryly and laughed as Byleth attempted to shove him but only managed to lose her balance and had to grasp tightly onto his jacket. He smiled down at her flustered face and leaned forward. “Might I have the opportunity to teach you something for once?”

Byleth huffed a visible breath but nodded. She was hesitant to remove her grip from Dimitri’s jacket but eventually gave in and held onto his hands, outstretched so she could take some distance. Dimitri showed her the same way he’d been shown years ago. His father had made an attempt, but after that had gone somewhat horribly, Sylvain had skated circles around them and made it his sacred duty to assist Dimitri, Ingrid, and Felix with their skating skills.

The moment Byleth seemed to catch onto the right stance she needed to keep her balance, Dimitri saw unfiltered delighted cross her face. The radiance of it was too stunning to be blocked by fur. He smiled back at her and took her for a path around the pond, hand in hand. The sounds of their breathing and the scratch of metal against ice were music to a dance he was happy he’d been on the floor for.

“That was fun,” Byleth said, once they’d stopped. She leaned against the side of the sleigh, removing the straps from the metal affixed to her boots. “Freezing, but fun.”

“You picked up on it quickly,” Dimitri said. He helped her, perhaps unnecessarily, back into the sleigh and wrapped an arm around her as they set the horses off for the cabin.

Byleth pulled the blanket up around them both and leaned her head against Dimitri’s chest. The sounds of hoofbeats through the snow and the crisp cool air followed them to the cabin. Once the horses were settled and they were safely inside, Byleth immediately went to work stoking the fire and warming her hands.

She’d taken her hat off—her hair was damp from the snow and the exertion of the past few hours. It laid over her shoulders, longer than his last birthday and the mint looked faintly brown in the orange light of the flame.

Once the fire was tended, Byleth immediately went to work making tea. The smell of Chamomile filled the room. “May I help with something, beloved?”

“No,” Byleth said, sweetly. “It’s your birthday.”

“I feel as if I get waited on enough when it isn’t my birthday,” Dimitri pointed out.

Byleth shrugged and continued on with the tea. There were some heartier snacks to go with it. Things that travelled well. The distance between the cabin and the castle was not great, but it was windy, the mountains were high, and the snow had been constant since they’d departed the night before.

Dimitri couldn’t taste any of it, but the warmth of the tea on his tongue and the texture of the millet bread and hank of cheese, almost made him feel as if he could. It was quiet in the cabin. It was peaceful and almost as if he did not have the responsibilities of three countries waiting back for him, hours away. The tension leaving his body was so distinct he was surprised there had been any left.

“I wouldn’t object to doing this every year,” Dimitri said, as Byleth rested her head against his arm.

“You do have a birthday every year,” Byleth pointed out, in that dry way of hers.

Dimitri chuckled and she looked up to smile at him, much better not covered by furs, still as blinding. “This is one of the better ones. Every one of them with you has been.”

Byleth’s smile softened and she tilted her head back to make it easier to angle for a kiss. He wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t his best birthday yet.

* * *

**Canon/Azure Dawn** **Continuity**

“Why are there so many forks?” Byleth asked, squinting suspiciously at the spread provided for them by the castle staff. 

“They’re for different courses,” Dimitri replied, resisting the instinctual urge to list their specific purposes that had been wrung painfully into his brain during etiquette training. 

Byleth twirled the salad fork in the air. “Why are we having different courses for lunch?”

“Are you complaining about _more_ food?” Dimitri asked, raising an eyebrow.

Byleth tapped the fork against her chin and then put it down next to the others. “No. It’s just… strange. Isn’t not eating with my fingers enough?” There was a smile on her face at that, but Dimitri could sense the undertone of tension beneath it. Transitioning from the battlefield and casual interaction to a more traditional (and more than slightly annoying) royal protocol had been difficult.

Dimitri picked up a piece of sauteed jerky with his fingers and ate it, licking his fingers after. 

Byleth laughed, which was a rare and perfect noise and then picked up her own meal with her fingers.

The staff wasn’t particularly pleased, but other than staining their clothes, Dimitri didn’t think that mattered much.

* * *

**Canon/Azure Dawn Continuity**

“Beloved,” Dimitri said, somewhere outside the actual warmth of the fur blanket Byleth was currently cocooned in. 

“No,” Byleth said. 

“I put on a fire,” Dimitri offered, she could see his fingers underneath the comforter. If he lifted it, she was going to kick him. 

“It doesn’t help,” Byleth said.

She heard his sigh and then, “Well, can I come in?” 

Byleth lifted the fur comforter and let him. He was fully dressed and had probably been out in the excessive snow that was blocking anyone from doing anything. He also lifted the fur up so that her feet were exposed so she turned them around and glared at him, although it was too dark to see. “Why isn’t your Blaiddyd spawn giving me whatever genes you have to stand these winters?” 

Dimitri’s laugh was patronising, but as he drew closer, he was warm, so she allowed it. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“You’ve never been pregnant,” Byleth pointed out. Saints she was freezing. “Why is it  _ so _ cold?”

“I do not control the weather, unfortunately,” Dimitri said, still sounding too amused, even more so as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her into his warm embrace. 

“You should work on that,” Byleth said, trying to climb into his vest and get some of that body heat on her. She did not think it was fair that she was carrying a Faerghus baby and still had gotten none of the icicle blood that they seemed to have.

“I will add it to my docket,” Dimitri said, somberly. “You do know you have to come out eventually?”

“I will when it stops being freezing.”

“Ah, so I should have your meals delivered until summer?” Dimitri asked and laughed as she elbowed him. “I’ll let you wear my cloak,” he offered.

Byleth considered it. It was warmer than anything she had on, and she wasn’t insane, she knew she had to leave the warmth of the bed and fur covers at some point. “Fifteen more minutes,” she said. Dimitri’s assenting noise was more of a grumble, but he drew her in closer to get more of his body heat. 

  
  



	4. Claudeleth

**Canon**

_Spotify2020 Meme - Dua Lipa - Levitating_

“You look nice,” Claude said, eyebrows raising.

“Why do you sound surprised?” Byleth asked, enjoying the immediate frown he made when he realized the additional connotation of his initial compliment. She shrugged and brushed off the flimsy layers of fabric that were draped down her leg. “I’m still not sure this is going to work, but I’d rather do it than make someone else do it.”

“Lorenz,” Claude said, fighting a smile badly. “You can just say Lorenz.”

“Don’t start with me,” Byleth said, pointing a finger at him. He grabbed her finger and then moved his hand down her bare wrist and pulled her closer.

“Do you know how to dance in this?” he asked, half curious, half… something else. She was still figuring out what that was, but she didn’t mind it.

“That depends on what kind of dancing the…” What had Hilda called them? “The mark, is expecting.”

Claude hung his head and barely covered up a choked snort, which made it clear Byleth had said something silly. It wasn’t her fault she was better at hitting things with swords than knowing the ins and outs of what Ignatz had excitedly called a ‘heist.’

Claude’s hand was still on her wrist, his thumb smoothed down her pulse points. He hadn’t commented on the fact that she had one and he hadn’t heard the same thrumming beat in her chest, even though she knew he’d read her father’s diary cover-to-cover (even before he spent extended time with his head pillowed there). “I can’t say I’ll be a better teacher than Marianne and Hilda in this regard, Teach. But I can say it’s been a while since we’ve had a dance.”

She thought back to five years ago. The Heron Cup Ball. She’d felt incredibly awkward, not really old enough to stand with faculty and not actually a student. Then Claude had dragged her out into the middle of the floor and started a procession of people vying for a spot on her dance card.

“This isn’t how we danced,” Byleth murmured, as Claude’s hand slipped to her lower back where the fabric darted out to expose her sides. She rested her head on his shoulder and swayed to the sound of his heartbeat.

“You weren’t wearing that,” Claude said. And then after a beat, added. “Also I do believe, Seteth might have had an aneurism if we had.”

“He might now,” Byleth said and did a bad job hiding her laugh in Claude’s shoulder. Which was fine, because he wasn’t even hiding his.

* * *

**Post-Canon**

“Stop laughing,” Claude said, also speaking to himself, because another was threatening to bubble up. “Or at least wait until we’re far enough out of earshot for them to hear us.”

Byleth was always opening up more, but that seemed to also mean that her expression was harder to manage when she had an actual emotion. “I wouldn’t want to upset the escort,” Byleth said, in a way that Claude knew he was going to regret, “that is guarding me back to my inn. For safety. In these times. That are so terrible for such a delicate young woman such as myself.”

Claude pushed his fist into his mouth and kept the snort down his throat. He would rather choke on it than give her the satisfaction. He held his arm around for her again. “Well then, you should probably accept my escort. As I am a very stereotypical masculine man that has never once seen you punch down the throat of a harbinger beast.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Byleth said, but she took his arm, “I shot the sword down its throat. I didn’t rip its tongue out with my bare hands.”

“Not without your gloves,” Claude said. “Wouldn’t be ladylike.”

Byleth had to grip his arm to stay standing as she almost melted into another fit of laughter. He supposed that wasn’t helping them keep under notice, but it was too good to resist. 


	5. Dorogrid

**Canon**

_Spotify2020 Meme: James TW You & Me_

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Ingrid said.

Dorothea tipped her head a little, cascading her hair down her side and shrugged a bare shoulder. “You said what you said.”

“I shouldn’t have said it,” Ingrid said. “I was frustrated and tired. It doesn’t mean… it doesn’t mean I meant it.”

Dorothea tapped her fingers against the bracelet on her wrist. It clanged slightly with the ring she’d never taken off since Ingrid had given it to her. The motion seemed almost soothing. Ingrid wondered if it felt that way too and warmed a little.

“It sounded like you mean it,” Dorothea said, softly.

She wasn’t looking at Ingrid, her face hidden by the long curtain of her hair as she tipped her head even further down.

“Never,” Ingrid said, firmly. She reached out to cup Dorothea’s chin with her knuckle and thumb. “Never,” she repeated, when green eyes met her own. “It’s me and you, forever.”

Dorothea threw her arms around Ingrid’s neck and pulled her bodily towards her own, crushing Ingrid a little in a way she didn’t mind. “You better mean that,” Dorothea threatened.

“Absolutely,” Ingrid said, clinging to Dorothea a little tighter.

* * *

**Canon/FEH**

“Ingrid,” Dorothea scolded. “If you do not start relaxing this instant, I am going to  _ throw _ you into the ocean myself.”

Ingrid frowned at her. “How is a threat supposed to make me relax?”

Dorothea shrugged one bare shoulder. “I was attempting to speak Faerghan. Isn’t that how you all communicate?”

Ingrid snorted and then let out a defeated sigh and she leaned back into the chair and picked up the melon float sipping at it lightly. “How do I know when I’m relaxed?” Ingrid asked.

Dorothea playfully kicked her in the leg and Ingrid laughed and turned towards her and said, “Was that also Faerghan?”

“Yes,” Dorothea said primily and accepted the peace offering when Ingrid held out her melon float for Dorothea to sip. It was refreshing for how warm the day was starting to become. She looked up through her lashes to see Ingrid watching her sip through the straw and made a show of taking one of the pieces of cherry on the top and rubbing it across her lip before she swallowed it.

Ingrid was bright red and sputtering, which was probably Faerghan for relaxed. 


	6. Mercidue

**Mermaid AU**

_Spotify2020 Meme - Panic! At the Disco - Into the Unknown_

Mercedes snuck away from the estate everyday for a month one summer. It happened to be the summer immediately before she and Mother fled the Bartels. She had attempted to follow Emile who was playing with some friends, far past the border of trees where he was supposed to be playing, but had lost sight of him. Instead, Mercedes had found a small recess, almost a grotto, in the cliff face. She hadn’t meant to climb down it, but she’d seen a boy resting on one of the rocks, clearly injured.

Of course, he hadn’t been a boy at all. Or at least not fully one. 

Mercedes  _ loved _ the tales of sirens dragging people into the watery depths so that their souls could float on forever in the wastes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to fall victim to it herself, but once she had climbed down she realized he was injured and couldn’t keep herself from helping.

He had fairly normal skin and hair, dark for the first, and white for the second. Not very common in Adrestria, but this close to the sea, who knows where he’d originated. His tail was beautiful, though it seemed dulled. This changed as Mercedes brought more food down each day. The more the siren boy healed, the more his tail showed vibrant, reflective colors, like a catch of the sea itself.

His name was Dedue and he was from a place Mercedes had heard in stories, Duscur, the underwater garden. He’d also gotten stuck during the last bad storm.

“I don’t think I could carry you to the top,” Mercedes said, as they ate lunch atop the flat rock in the grotto that got the most sun. The water was cool and lapped at her feet. 

Dedue had better table manners than most noblemen Mercedes knew. He waited until he was done swallowing completely before speaking. “No, I do not think so either. I am not certain I could lift myself with rope.”

“Was there  _ any _ breach beneath?” Mercedes asked. There surely had to be something, because the water wasn’t stagnant as if it had settled from only the rain.

Dedue shook his head. “Nothing very large.”

Mercedes tried to think for a moment and then looked up at the lip of the cave, where the sun was passing over a cloud. “Oh!” she said. “I know who could get you up!” 

“I told you, Mercedes,” Dedue said her name very formerly, even though she kept telling him Mercie was fine. “Humans can’t see me.”

“Yes,” Mercedes agreed. “ _ Humans _ can’t see you.”

She lifted herself up off the rock and made her way to climb back up. “Finish eating, I’ll be back soon!” she said as she pulled herself upwards, a little bit less carefully than normal.

It took bribing Emile with too many sweets before he’d agree to help her distract the stablemaster, but Mercedes was able to get their sweetest (and one of their largest) mares away from the stables. It was getting later than she would have liked by the time she got back, but with some effort, gentle coaxing (of Dedue and the horse), Mercedes was able to get her siren friend back to the top.

The mare seemed to fright at him once Dedue was at the surface and ran off in what Mercedes  _ hoped _ was the direction of home or she’d be in so much trouble. She helped Dedue up, using a considerable amount of energy to help him closer to the shore. “This would be easier with legs,” she pointed out.

“I will keep that in mind,” Dedue said. 

They said their goodbyes and Mercedes managed to wait until his tail was merely a flick above the surface of the water over the horizon to cry about it. She had so few friends here that of course the first one she made would be a sea creature she’d never see again. Dedue talked so vividly about the underwater gardens of Duscur, that Mercedes wished she  _ didn’t _ have legs so she could see them.

She was thinking of this, years later, fresh from the Naval Nursing Academy as she stepped onboard the Areadbhar. She was greeted by the captain and then the first mate, who was a rugged fellow, scarred and clearly well traveled, but with very kind eyes.

“Have we met before?” Mercedes asked.

“Someone told me that it would be easier with legs,” he said with a warm, familiar smile. 

(this also has PHENOMENAL art by [Arrie](https://twitter.com/tomaarrie/status/1339356209716076544?s=20))


	7. Ferdibert

**Canon**

“What is the purpose of these?” Hubert asked, gesturing to the tea light candles covering the entirety of Ferdinand’s room.

“Ambiance,” Ferdinand said simply, and set up the coffee carafe next to his favorite tea set. “We may be in ruins at the moment, but that does not mean we have to act like it.”

“Your priorities, as always, remain trivial,” Hubert said. He swept his robes to the side and sat in the chair provided.

Ferdinand pursed his lips and poured Hubert coffee. “You could do with some ambiance. Last time we had tea in your room it looked like somewhere a bat would nest.”

“I don’t sleep often,” Hubert said. He took a sip of the coffee, slowly so he could let the bitterness turn to the earthy flavor of the roast. These were excellent beans. He would have to find out who Ferdinand bartered with for them.

“If your room was more welcoming you might,” Ferdinand said, and then chuckled as he poured his own tea. “Apologies, you would still overwork yourself into a sleepless existence, no matter how many tealights.”

Hubert raised an eyebrow and took another sip. “I’m not working now.”

Ferdinand raised his cup to his lips and before taking a sip said, “I suppose not.”

* * *

**Canon**

_Bonus Implied Edeleth_

“Hm,” Hubert could give no more response than that. It deserved, frankly, less.

“You have to have noticed it,” Ferdinand said, still choosing to tie himself to such an utterly pointless topic of discussion. 

“I have noticed nothing,” Hubert said. “Lady Edelgard is in the same spirits as she always is. There is no  _ visible improvement _ , as you suggested.”

Ferdinand gestured with his head, while holding his tea towards where Lady Edelgard and the Professor were engaged in conversation. Hubert had no interest in continuing to entertain his foolish— 

“Hm,” Hubert said again. Upon further observation, it would seem that Ferdinand was frustratingly  _ correct _ . Lady Edelgard was in fact smiling a bit more brightly than she had earlier. 

“They are still very much dancing around it,” Ferdinand said. “Which I can understand, given the officiantcy of where they lead and the responsibilities involved with it, but it does not make so much sense to me to  _ avoid _ it completely. They should—” 

“Officiantcy?” Hubert asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ferdinand cleared his throat and took another ship of tea, swallowing a little too quickly to cover for his gaffe. “I only mean, they should take advantage of the situation. There really is no reason to take things quite as slow as a general course of courtship would allow for. We are in war time.” His lips quirked slightly. “And it is nice to see that Edelgard does relax occasionally.” 

Hubert was not sure he could agree with that. He was not certain if relaxing, as Ferdinand called it, would truly be what Lady Edelgard wanted considering the situation. His coffee was cooling, so he took a longer sip of it and set his cup back onto the burner. No good in wasting this roast. “Not that I am participating in your infantile gossip, but a slow build to a relationship can only result in a finer result. If you burn a piece of paper in a quick flame it turns to ash, if you burn around the edges, then you can see discoloration and a better test for whether or not the flame would reach full efficacy and how strong the paper actually is.”

Ferdinand breathed out through his nose, staring blankly at him. “You really must make even the most romantic conceits sound as if they were arson, don’t you?”

“That wasn’t arson, that was a reactive poisonous compound in-laid into paper.” 

Ferdinand continued staring at him for a moment and then very stiffly turned in his seat again to face the other direction. 

  
  



	8. Dorovain

**Post-Canon**

_Spotify2020 Meme: Marina - I'm a Ruin_

“So,” Sylvain said, a little later than he should have. “How’s the opera house?”

Dorothea paused, halfway to pulling one black bra strap back on. She looked over her still bare shoulder, eyes hooded and judgmental in a way that he hated and completely turned him on. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Try and catch up?” Sylvain stretched his arms over his head and rested his head against them as he crossed them behind him on his pillow.

Dorothea looked unamused. “Sylvain. Don’t pretend this is anything but what it is.”

“I’m not,” Sylvain said, smile resting easy and mostly not fake on his face. Dorothea really knew how to work her hips when she sang. That was the most fun he’d had in months. “Can’t I want to catch up with an old friend? Especially after having fucked that old friend?”

“No,” Dorothea said, shortly. She emphasized it by pulling up her bra and snapping the strap. It sounded painful, which was ridiculous but also dramatic in a way Sylvain respected. She gathered up clothes and started putting them on.

He loved watching her put on clothes. They never took their time taking them off. “You want to marry me?” he asked.

She paused dressing, but only for a moment and didn’t look back at him this time.

“I’m serious,” Sylvain said. “We get along. You’re still looking for stability and I need a Lady Gautier. Don’t you want to be taken care of for the rest of your life? ‘thea if there’s one thing I can do is take care of people that aren’t me.”

If he didn’t ruin them first.

Dorothea pulled something that sounded like it zipped and started tying a complicated knot in the side of her corset that reminded him of a pain deep in his ribcage he wasn’t thinking about. She didn’t reply to him, nor did she rise to his repeated, “Theeeeeaaaaa.”

It wasn’t until she’d pulled her boots on that she strode towards the bed, leaned over him and got close enough that her hair surrounded him and their noses were almost touching. “Don’t pretend we’re not filling space for the people we’d rather be here.”

“It’s not like they’re coming back,” Sylvain said, hating the way his voice didn’t come out even or smooth, or easy.

Dorothea’s face shifted into something like sympathy and then she kissed him softly on the mouth. “Ask me again to marry you when I’m half naked again and I’ll take out your Gautier heir makers.”

Sylvain pushed the bad down and laughed instead. “You’re not half-naked now!”

Dorothea was already halfway out the door, she waved behind at him before she shut it behind her. Sylvain sighed and closed his eyes after she left, ignoring her advice and doing exactly what he wanted.

Pretending it was something else.


	9. Hilclaude

Claude had no idea how Hilda talked him into these things. He adjusted the heeled shoe on his foot, making sure he had his full weight onto the middle. That seemed to be the trick of it.

“How are you making those look good?” Hilda asked with an annoyed huff. “This was supposed to be humiliating.”

“You should’ve picked a target less secure about themselves,” Claude said and took a couple of steps, before regaining his sense of balance. It wasn’t as hard as switching positions on a wyvern in midair, he could do this. It did, however, hurt his back a little and he didn’t understand why anyone wore them.

Hilda eyed him sideways, and was definitely checking him out as he walked past her. “Not insecure about your masculinity or your height?” 

Claude laughed at her and held his hand out. “I don’t think you should be judging  _ anyone _ about height.” 

“I’m not!” Hilda protested, but took his hand. She was looking up at him and wrinkled her nose. “Your ass looks good in those, but I don’t like how tall you are. Take them off.”

“Nope,” Claude said, taking her for a turn around the floor. “The deal was an hour without tripping.”

Hilda actually followed his lead when he spun her around and took a sidestep. “You’re showing off!” 

“And?” Claude asked. “You said my ass looked good in them. Shouldn’t I show off?”

Hilda’s face was as pink as her hair and she shoved him with both hands. He managed to catch himself before falling and landed in a squat that was going to be difficult (but not impossible to get up from). “Cheating,” Claude pointed out.

“And?” Hilda replied. 

Claude laughed. 

  
  



	10. Caspashe

**Canon/Azure Dawn** **Continuity**

_Twitter Prompt: Cats_

“This is the best cat,” Caspar declared, while their little thief settled onto his chest, purring. “Like, the rest of the cats are all right I guess.”

Ashe laughed lightly and scratched the little thief behind his ears. “He’s at least the smartest cat. None of the others were so talented at sneaking into the pantry.”

“Right?” Caspar said. “Best cat. Like I said.”

Ashe settled down in the grass next to Caspar tentatively and continued to pet their little thief. “You’re reformed now,” Ashe told the cat.

The response was a flick of his tail. Caspar laughed at that and then the cat meowed in frustration and hopped off his chest and made its way to whatever cats at the monastery did. 

“Well so much for that,” Caspar said, but instead of jumping straight up, he stretched and put his arms crossed behind his head, still staring up at the sky. “Great day, huh?”

Ashe felt warm. “Yeah, it is.”

  
  



	11. Ashedue

**Canon**

Ashe looked up from his book to see Dedue completely covered in some kind of thick liquid. He stood up and went towards him and smelled… tomatoes?

“Flayn requested cooking lessons.” 

“Oh,” Ashe said, trying not to laugh. “Hold on, I’ll get you a towel.” He ran quickly to the nearest supply room and grabbed one before running back, almost out of breath to hand it to Dedue. 

“Thank you,” Dedue said and rubbed the sauce off of his face, by the time he got to his shirt, the towel was soaked completely in red. “This will not put people at ease about me.”

“It doesn’t look like blood if that is what you’re worried about,” Ashe said. “I thought maybe it was one of Constance’s experiments.” 

“No,” Dedue said. He looked at Ashe and his frown softened. “You are more observant, I suspect if I walk around the Monastery there will be… assumptions.”

Ashe sighed. He really didn’t understand why people didn’t take the two seconds to talk to Dedue and realize how sweet he was. There was still some of the red sauce dripping off him and Ashe swept his hands over it (trying to ignore how firm Dedue’s thighs were) and wiped it on himself. “I’ll walk with you,” he suggested.

Dedue stared at him for a long moment before nodding once and joining him to head towards the baths. 

  
  



	12. Leomari

**Canon**

“Um,” Marianne said, staring at her feet. “I don’t know if this is a good idea. I feel like I’m too much trouble.”

“Nonsense!” Leonie couldn’t believe she had to tell Marianne this again. “I’m happy to help. If you win the Heron Cup, it’ll be good for all of us.”

“I don’t think I’m going to win,” Marianne said. “I… would like not to embarrass myself at least.”

Leonie took her hand. “Come on, I’ll give you some pointers. I know I’m just a peasant but we have dancing at my village too. Plus the footwork will be good practice.”

Marianne followed her lead, stumbling a little bit and then apologizing for too long about it. After a while of it though, she started to loosen up a bit. Leonie could understand why she was chosen as their representative. When she wasn’t clumsy, Marianne was really graceful. 

“Thank you,” Marianne said, later when they’d finished. Her face was red with exertion and she looked more at ease than Leonie had seen her in ages. “I hope I’ll remember all of that for the competition.” 

“You’ll do great! You’ll wipe the floor with the others,” Leonie said. “And afterwards I want first dance at the ball.”

Marianne looked down at her hands and smiled very small. “Okay.” 


End file.
